


After The War Was Lost

by AlissaShawWrites



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Avengers Feels, Crying, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Sad, Valhalla, aunt may - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 14:37:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14750774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlissaShawWrites/pseuds/AlissaShawWrites
Summary: The war is over for Peter Parker. Him and so many others. He meets them in the afterlife and he can barely handle it especially when he discovers who lived and who died after Thanos's final snap.





	After The War Was Lost

Peter was unfamiliar with the feeling he was experiencing. He could not open his eyes no matter how hard he tried and the world around him felt nonexistent. He felt nothing. Saw nothing. As if he was falling but there was no wind to catch him. No breeze playing with his hair, or sun to warm his cold skin. It felt more like a dream, the way you fall before you hit the ground and startle yourself awake; only it went on so much longer. When it did stop, Peter was afraid to try to move. Now the unmistakable feeling of soft grass tickled his cheek; and on his fingers, the grain of loose dirt caressed him. It was quiet; so quiet, and for a moment it was peaceful. 

The boy; so cold and afraid, found himself rising involuntarily. He did not mean to do it, to ruin the moment of calm but he could not stop his own actions. Once standing, he finally felt like his eyes were no longer clamped shut. Opening them slowly, Peter found himself in the middle of a field. Looking to his left, a beautiful and seemingly endless ocean bordered by white sand. To his right; a palace of gargantuan stature. Roofed with shields of Viking designs, intricately carved marble and gold statues, and waterfalls flowing down the sides of the mountain the castle sat atop. Peter had never laid eyes on something so amazing. Even through the thick grey clouds, the sun seemed to shine on the glorious monument. 

He turned in circles, trying to grasp where he was but each new view confused him more until he finally stopped, staring at the slowly rolling waves. "Where am I? Where's Mr. Stark?" Tears began to fall as the memories came flooding back to him. The war, the gauntlet, the feeling of death. "I don't-" he choked out through sobs. "I don't understand."

“It’s alright, child,” a forceful yet soft voice soothed him. 

Peter turned, wiping the still flowing tears from his eyes. A man with white hair, a thick white beard and a golden patch over his right eye stood behind Peter. A hard to read expression painted his face as he looked around “Who are you?” Peter asked.

“Odin,” his eye finally resting on Peter. “It’s beautiful here is it not? You’ll enjoy it much more on a bright day. Today is a day of sorrow and the sky shows it. It’s usually much nicer.” 

The man walked closer to Peter very slowly. Peter took a few steps back before nodding and walking towards the welcoming man. "Does that mean you're- you know? Thor's dad?"

"Yes, I am.. And you, Peter correct?" Peter nodded. "You are standing in the fields of Valhalla. A great honour; you should feel proud of yourself."

The tears welled up in his eyes again, “I’m dead? For real; this isn’t a dream?”

"I'm sorry." Odin sorrowfully rested a hand on the boy's shoulder and gently guided him towards the palace. "It may take some time to accept but you need not worry. You are safe here and you are not alone. Come with me."

Before long they were standing in a grand ballroom of sorts. It; like the outside of the palace, was decorated in fine gold and marble. The noise in the room was unbearable; however. The fallen heroes were gathered here. Besides the mournful crying, the hall was dead silent, yet Peter could not hear what Odin was telling him. Peter only paid attention to what was in front of him. Wanda and Vision were in a deep and unmoving embrace. Starlord was beside himself in tears while surrounded by Drax and Mantis, as well as a green-skinned woman Peter did not know and a talking tree. They were all crying in varying amounts. Bucky was facing a wall, one hand resting on it just above eye level. Them and so many more, we're trying to hold themselves together but all failed.

“P-Peter?” A familiar voice broke him. 

Before his eyes could even focus on who it was, they were filled with tears again. He knew that voice. That voice that he had known for so long. One he never wanted to hear in a place like this. Peter’s voice cracked viciously with the pain of holding back a sob, “Ned!” 

They pulled each other into a tight embrace and now the tears flowed freely. “What happened, Peter? Where did you go? It’s my fault you died!” 

“Of course it’s not your fault! Why would you think that?” 

“I let you face the giant scary space thing! I let you do it alone!” 

“Don’t be stupid,” his voice softened. “It wasn’t your fault. It was never and could never be your fault. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.” 

“Don’t you be stupid on me now man.” 

It took them several more minutes to calm down and a few more before they pulled apart. “What- what do we do now?”

A hand was placed on Peter’s shoulders. He expected to see Odin once more when he instead was met with another unfamiliar face. A man in fine leathers and shining golden eyes. As if one of the statues had come to life before him. He was smiling more profoundly than the Allfather had been but the sorrow that glazed his eyes was unmistakable. “Here in Valhalla we are free to spend our days in luxury and peace; I do however wish to offer you a window to the living. So you can always be there with your loved ones.” 

The group, not only Peter and Ned were guided to a passageway that quickly turned into a cavern. The stone walls were smooth and decorated with murals of things Peter did not fully understand. Beings he had never seen and creatures he could never have imagined. One figure, in particular, stood out to him; however. A painting, enchanted to move and glisten in the light of the lanterns. The rebirth of a spirit; Loki the God of Mischief. Though it was not clear to Peter exactly what it meant, the image of a man he had heard horror stories about lining the walls of a paradise; looking so peaceful as he ascends.

“You’ll meet him soon, I’m sure,” Heimdall crouched down to Peters height. “Our prince is having a bit of a tough time without his brother but I assure you that the sun will shine on Valhalla again very soon.”

Heimdall was on his feet again, moving further into the cavern. Deep within the stone walls was a small pool of stagnant water. Heimdall spoke again; this time to the group, "when you gaze into this water, you will see that which you want. Anything and anyone in the nine realms and beyond. Use it wisely and carefully. Take caution not to let yourself be pulled into its depths. You are dead and they are living, so please do not waste your immortal life here watching them live without you. It only hurts you both in the end."

Peter was hesitant to approach. He was not sure what he was actually afraid of seeing or not seeing in the pool but he almost could not bring himself to do it. Ned had practically thrown himself at the water to see back into the world of the living. He was still crying when he spoke, “mom, I miss you so much right now.” 

Others made their way forward as well and Peter got caught in the crowd. Forced to face whatever was in the depths. At first, he saw through the crystal water to the bottom of the rock floor before it changed. Aunt May sat alone in their apartment watching the news. Watching footage of Peter and Tony being swept away by the alien craft. She was crying; begging for him to return. Praying for any God to listen. Just asking for her nephew to return to her.

Then there was MJ who had received the news from her mother. Her only two friends in the world were gone. She wept too. Peter had never seen her cry and seeing her break because of him was too much. 

Finally Tony appeared before him. On his knees, covered in the ashes of what was once Peter. He was crying the hardest out of all. He cried because he knew it was hopeless. He knew that Peter was gone and he had witnessed it. He couldn’t stop it no matter how hard he tried. He had held the boy as it happened yet couldn’t save him.

Before he could see any more, Peter ran and collapsed at the bottom of the opposing wall. He shed bitter and relentless tears. He wanted to be back, to have everything the way it was before but he knew it was hopeless.

"We are going to win Mr. Parker." He raised his head to see the Wizard. Doctor Strange as he recalled. The doctor was not weeping; he was standing tall and proud. "I checked every timeline remember. You just have to wait and things will be back to normal and Thanos will soon be nothing but an ancient nightmare."

“Y-you promise?”

“Without a doubt. We just have to wait a little longer.” Strange sat beside the frightened boy and rested his head against the cold stone. “For now, do what you can to enjoy Valhalla. You won't be seeing it again for a very, very long time.”

**Author's Note:**

> I took some liberty in what Valhalla looks like and some other things. Please don't yell at me is I got something really wrong.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr here! [https://www.tumblr.com/blog/spidersonandfriendsfics](url)


End file.
